


Make It Right

by gingersprite



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men (Original Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-20
Updated: 2011-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24510712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingersprite/pseuds/gingersprite
Summary: Five times Raven hurt Charles, and the one time she made it right.
Relationships: Raven | Mystique & Charles Xavier
Kudos: 8





	1. First

**Author's Note:**

> After some deliberation, I've decided to start moving my old fics on FF over here; mostly for my own record keeping purposes and so everything's in one place. I've adjusted the date to reflect when I originally published this story, though right now it's 2020. This was one of my earliest fanfics and, well, let's just say it shows! So, while comments and kudos are always appreciated, I'm not interested in any concrit at this time.

_"You're not... scared of me?"_

_"I always knew I couldn't be the only one who was... different."_

* * *

From the moment Raven entered the lives of the Xaviers, she was made well-aware that Charles' mother despised her. When the young boy had introduced his new friend to his parents, asking if she could live with them, Raven had disguised herself as an rosy-cheeked, blonde, _normal_ ten-year-old, the perfect picture of innocence. Brian Xavier, a kind-hearted man who, despite being rather distant, was sympathetic to her, and didn't need much persuading before allowing her to stay. His wife Sharon, on the other hand, was suspicious by nature, even of a little girl, and only accepted her into her home at her son's request.

She put up with their family's newest addition for all of a week.

It wasn't a pretty story, but it was Raven's strongest memory of the women who would have been her mother; and it happened like this.

Late at night, Raven had been curled up under her bedsheets, when she was awoken by Charles climbing out of his bed and carefully exiting the room they shared. Despite all his caution, Raven had always been a light sleeper, and Charles was a rather clumsy child, his limbs too long for him to really know what to do with them.

Under normal circumstances, she might have accepted the idea that her new brother was leaving for the restroom, or to get a glass of water; but she'd felt how Sharon's eyes glared at her every time she saw her, judging her, declaring her unworthy of her love. Raven had tried to ignore it, tried to prove her worth, but deep down she knew she couldn't be accepted by this women; after all, she'd been trying for acceptance all her life. Charles knew, of course, and now she feared he would try to change his mother's mind, try and make her see reason. Which was precisely what he was planning to do now.

Feigning sleep, Raven waited until Charles left and she could distantly hear his footsteps at the end of the hall, then tip-toed out of their room after him. The much nimbler of the two, she followed him all the way downstairs to Brian's study, the only illuminated room in the mansion. Charles entered, while Raven crouched in the shadows behind the mahogany doors. Inside, Sharon sat at the desk, nursing a glass of bourbon, and clearly deep in thought. She started at the sight of her son and stood up, setting the glass down.

"Charles, what are you doing up so late?" Sharon asked, not even attempting gentleness.

"I couldn't sleep, Mother," he answered.

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" she slurred. "I'm not the bloody sand-man." Despite his mother's rudeness, Charles didn't back down.

"I couldn't sleep, because I need to talk to you about Raven," the boy continued hesitantly. From her hiding spot, Raven could almost _feel_ Sharon stiffen.

"What's there to talk about?" she said brusquely, the tell-tale clink of a glass on the table indicating she had just taken another swig.

"You don't like her," Charles answered simply. "Why? She's really nice-"

"Nice? Charles, you caught her invading our house! Nice girls don't break into houses!" snapped Sharon.

"She was hungry, that's all! Wouldn't you break in if you were her?" he argued.

"I'm not her, and that's besides the point," Sharon sniffed. "How do we know she won't sneak off and take whatever she damn well pleases with her? She's just some charity case your father has become temporarily fascinated with, nothing more."

"No she's not, she's my sister now, and she's your daughter, too!" Charles shouted back.

"Young man, you will not raise your voice to me," she said, her voice icy.

"It's not as if you'd listen otherwise!"

"I'm warning you, Charles, do not speak to me in such a way!"

"You're just angry that you can't have a daughter of your own anymore; that Dad would rather have a daughter who isn't really his, than one with someone as cold and mean as you-!" The audible smack of Sharon striking her son across the face echoed throughout the rest of the house, sending Raven reeling back in shock. Quiet filled the air for several moments, before someone finally filled it.

"Go back to bed, now, Charles. We'll discuss your behavior in the morning." There were no more words said between the two of them, and Charles exited the room. He stopped for a moment just outside the doors and extended a hand towards Raven. Her heart sank even as she took it, realizing he'd known she was there all along.

_'Stupid telepathy...'_

Once they were back in the safety of their room, Raven ran a hand gently over the angry red mark across his cheek.

"I'm sorry," she sniffed, wiping her nose on her pajama sleeve. "It's my fault she-"

"No, it isn't," Charles interrupted, pulling her into a tight hug, which she eagerly returned, burying her head in his shoulder. "It's not your fault at all." It took him repeating those words all night before she almost believe them true. _Almost._

Sharon left the next morning, and the divorce papers were finalized within a month. As it turned out, the Xaviers' marriage had been failing for quite some time; Raven and the fight with Charles had just been the final straw.

They never saw her again after that; correction, _Raven_ never saw her again, though Charles still saw her occasionally. He tried not to make a big deal out of those meetings, and she tried not to make a big deal out of how much Sharon's rejections had hurt. Still, though, they hadn't hurt her as much as that slap Sharon gave Charles, which stung Raven as if she had taken the hit herself. Even after the red had faded, she felt a horrible guilt over the whole affair, and swore to be the best sister and daughter she could be.

And even as she made that promise, Raven knew this wouldn't be the last time Charles took a hit for her.


	2. Second

_"You know, people like you are the reason I was afraid to go to school as a child."_

* * *

Charles had always loved school, whereas Raven hated it with a passion. It wasn't the learning aspect she despised; in fact, one of her favorite things to do was curl up on the couch next to Charles and listen to him talk about what big, complicated things they learned in _high school._ If high school was as much fun as he claimed it to be, well, then Raven couldn't wait until she was older and could leave the hell that was middle school behind.

Because that's truly what school was for her; her own personal hell. Granted, she was only a child and didn't have much to compare it to, but Raven figured it came pretty close; it was almost as miserable as being homeless.

Before that night at the mansion, she'd never really gone to school before, certainly not one of such high quality as the private school she was enrolled in now. As such, she was put in all lower-level classes, and still Raven found herself having to constantly catch-up on what everyone else was learning. Teachers rolled their eyes and sighed in exasperation when they stumbled upon yet _another_ concept she didn't know; the other students just called her names.

 _Stupid, retard, freak, ugly._ The 'ugly' hurt worse than the others. Even hidden under her blonde hair and rosy cheeks, even under all that falsity, she wasn't pretty enough. And so started the fear which would later turn into an obsession, plaguing her all her life. Coupled with that was also always the constant terror that one day she'd lose control, and everyone would know just how much of a freak she was; it was an awful lot for a child to bear.

She'd yet to tell Charles of the harassment, and frankly, she had no intention of doing so anytime soon. Raven was a big-girl, and she could handle a little name-calling; up until it turned into more than that.

She was sitting alone on the swing-set after school let out, waiting for Charles like she did every day. She'd wait on the playground out in front of the school until the high school next door let out; then he'd go over to her middle school and they'd play until the butler came and got them. Raven loved how Charles had never stopped playing with her, even after he became a teenager.

A warm spring breeze blew past and warmed her bare shoulders, her school blazer discarded on the ground next to her. Smiling, Raven tilted her head up, feeling the sun warm against her face. She swung back and forth on the swings a bit, kicking her feet back-and-forth.

Suddenly, hands wrapped around the swing chains and yanked her back to earth. Blinking owlishly, dread rose up in her throat as she realized she was surrounded by three of the school's biggest, meanest bullies. Piers, Tony, and Kyle were all in eighth grade, and at least one of them had been held back before. Raven told herself she didn't have anything to fear; after all, boys weren't _allowed_ to hit girls, especially not little sixth-grade girls who were just minding their own business. She braced herself for the verbal onslaught.

"Hey, there, freak. What are you doing how here?" Piers asked, the hostility in his voice just barely concealed.

"Yeah, what're you doing here, freak?" Kyle echoed, laughing. Charles' philosophy on school-yard bullies echoed through her head. _'Just ignore them and they'll go away... Just ignore them and they'll go away... Just ignore them and they'll go away...'_

"Hey, we asked you a question; speak up!" Tony snarled, shoving Raven forward. Wood chips scraped her hands and knees as she hit the ground, but she ignored it and was up on her feet an instant later.

"Go away," she mumbled, with all the ferocity of a half-drowned puppy.

"Fat chance, stupid!" jeered Tony, giving her another shove. She caught herself, only to be pushed again from the front by Piers, who shoved her towards Kyle, who directed her back towards Tony...

They repeated the action several times, all the while echoing those words; stupid, retard, freak, ugly. And each time she grew more afraid, until the dread clawing its way up her throat turned to sheer terror. The familiar tingling itch began to spread across her skin, and, horrified, she realized she was losing control. Already, her blonde hair was turning auburn, then cherry-red; blue scales began to domino their way up from her fingertips, where she knew they would spread across her whole body, revealing her true form. Raven fought to regain control, but the pushing and name-calling were too much. _'Where was Charles?'_ she thought wildly, searching for him.

There, just past Kyle's shoulder, she spotted him, his nose in a text book, walking towards the playground. He couldn't see her, couldn't see that she was about to blow their secret.

 _'Charles!'_ Raven thought as loud as she could. _'Charles, help me!'_ No sooner had she screamed those thoughts, her brother was suddenly at her side, pulling her out of the circle of bullies. The boys seemed surprised to see him there, but more angry that their toy had been taken away.

"What gives, Whiz-Kid?" Tony growled.

"Leave her alone," Charles answered, his voice a deadly calm as he pushed Raven behind him. The bullies laughed, ignoring the calm voice that Raven knew meant trouble.

"Not gonna happen, Smarty-Pants!" Before either sibling could react, Piers' meaty fist shot out and hit Charles in the face, knocking him to the ground. Still laughing, Kyle grabbed onto one of Raven's pigtails and pulled her back towards them. She started screaming for real, now. Because Charles was her big brother, her hero; and if Charles couldn't fight back, then she didn't stand a chance.

"I thaid, leb 'er 'lone!" Charles slurred through the blood in his mouth, pulling himself to his feet. He stretched his hands out, and suddenly, the laughter stopped, the bullies frozen in place. Shocked, Raven didn't move either, until Charles grabbed onto her wrist and pulled her away. Forgetting their backpacks, the two ran, running as far away from the bullies as they could, until they met the car coming to get them half-way. The butler expressed his shock at the sight of his bloodied and out-of-breath charges, but he said nothing more, aside from telling Charles to pinch his nose and tilt his head back. The ride back was empty of conversation, the silence broken only by Raven's sniffles and Charles' labored breaths.

Upon reaching the mansion, they were set upon almost instantly by the maid and Brian. The day ended with an ice pack for Charles' broken nose and a warm cookie for Raven's shattered nerves, which made neither of them feel much better. Later, the young girl approached her brother in the living room, her hands clenched with worry.

"Charles?" Raven asked tentatively. Her brother looked up from his book, and she winced at the deep bruising peeping out from under the ice he held over his nose. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean..." She snuffled a little, the guilt over her brother's injury made worse knowing he'd gotten it protecting her. Charles blinked a little, surprised.

"Is'not your fault, Rae, not at all," he answered, his voice still sounding slightly off. "'m alri', see?" Despite having seen it in all its bloody glory, Raven couldn't contain a slight gasp at the sight of her brother's black-and-blue nose, which, to her, now looked much worse. Charles winced, realizing that probably wasn't the best idea.

"C'mere," he gestured for her to sit next to him on the couch, as he marked his book and set the ice on the coffee table. She obliged, and curled up into his side when his arm automatically encircled her shoulders. "Nothin' that happened today was your fault. 'Dis," he said as he pointed to his nose. "Is th' result of under-evolved buffoons, an' wi' me training my mind more th'n my body. We'll have to learn to protect ourselves some day, you and I, to prevent any more incidents like 'dis. Us 'gainst th' world, and all tha'."

Charles smiled, his voice light and jovial, but it didn't shake the guilt that sat heavily in her stomach. Raven had run through all the things she could have done differently; all of which, truthfully, would have involved time travel or the ability to see into the future, but for an eleven-year-old who could shape-shift, that didn't matter much.

Despite her best efforts, she'd hurt him; again. What's worse, Raven was starting to wonder if her promise was even possible to keep.


	3. Third

_"You have no idea what I'd give to feel..."_

_"Normal."_

* * *

She's sixteen-years-old, and too high to remember whether the person who's tongue she's got down her throat and who's hand she's got groping all over her ass is male or female, and frankly, she couldn't care less. It turns out the tongue is female and the hands are male, and both are perfectly ready for a threesome, and so is she; who cares that she's never had sex with one person, much less two at a time?

The lights are too bright, and the music is too loud, and the room is too spinney, but there's too much alcohol and narcotics running through her veins to notice. She's sixteen and higher than a kite, with not a care in the world, not even towards her own well-being. And after all, why would she, when she's having the time of her life?

Then she's pulled away from the two people, who instantly latch on to each other the moment she leaves. A hand is clamped tightly around her wrist, pulling her through the ocean of bright lights and loud music and spinney rooms, pulling her out the door and into the cold Westchester air-

Suddenly, the loss of the music pounding in her ears and lights flashing in her eyes brought Raven back to her senses- or, at least enough to recognize Charles' foggy face in front of her. His lips were moving, but out of sync with his words, which were overpowered by hysterical laughter. If she was just a little more sober, she might have cared to realize the laughs were spilling from her own kiss-swollen mouth. Hands reached toward her head, long slender fingers touching her temples as if they could reach right through to her brain.

 _'Raven, calm down!'_ her brother's voice echoed throughout her mind, sending soothing thoughts to her overly-stimulated synapses. The telepathic message somehow cut throughthe drugs and reached the rational part of her brain. The laughter died in her throat and she stumbled in her tramp heels, her tight skirt suddenly a little too confining for her legs. Mind still addled, she slipped off the shoes and was preparing to remove the skirt, when Charles' gentle, but firm hands stopped her.

"What have you taken?" he asked, his voice both too loud and too soft for Raven's ears to handle. Realizing such, he sighed and touched her mind again, repeating his question. When she didn't answer, he started to dig through her memories, visions of beer and marijuana and white powders flashing before his eyes.

"Get the fuck out of my head!" Raven slurred, shoving him away from her.

 _'I need to know what you've taken; you could have overdosed!'_ Charles retorted, still using his telepathy.

"Well, I didn't, so stay the hell out!" she snapped. "You promised you'd keep out! You fucking promised!"

 _'Not if it interferes with your safety,'_ he argued, grabbing onto her again to prevent her from running off. Raven continued to fight him, though, shouting out what appeared to be a one-sided conversation, and other people walking past the night-club were beginning to stare. The _last_ thing they needed was to have the police called.

He hated doing it, but at the same time knew it was necessary; he took control of his sister's mind. Instantly, Raven went limp, slumping against him, pliable and completely vulnerable.

 _'Come on, Raven, let's go home,'_ he commanded. _'You can sleep when we get back to the car; it's only a block or so off.'_ Numb, Raven nodded, and began to walk just as Charles told her, albeit leaning heavily on his arm. A part of her suspected she was being controlled, but at the mentions of 'home' and, more importantly, 'sleep', she decided it didn't really matter. Her bare feet traveled across the pavement, rounding a couple of corners before stopping at the edge of the side walk.

 _'Stop, feet. Good, feet,'_ she thought, and giggled. Then, her feet stepped off onto the street, stumbling drunkenly down the crosswalk. They touched pavement again, and continued.

 _'Almost there, Raven,'_ Charles whispered through her mind, meaning to keep her calm; it had quite the opposite effect.

The small part of Raven who realized she was being controlled but didn't care, suddenly decided it _did_ care, thank you very much, and didn't take too kindly to it. In a sudden moment of clarity, she snapped through the telepathic bond connecting her to Charles and physically pushed him away. She ran from him, ran right into on coming traffic, and stopped in the middle of the road, too intoxicated to realize the two bright lights freezing her in place belonged to a car just about to run her over.

"Raven!" was all Charles shouted as he ran after her, acting on the simple, primal instinct to _protectprotectprotect_ his sister, and shielded her with his own body.

The bright lights disappeared as Charles' body blocked hers from the car; then pain shot through her, and there were people all around her screaming, or maybe it was her and Charles, and Raven felt like she was _flying, flying like a bird, flying so very high and far away..._

When Raven woke up later, her mouth tasting like beer and antiseptics, she had almost no recollection of the past night's events- or, whenever it was they happened. She felt a burning pain in her head and an aching stiffness to her left wrist, which, upon trying to move it, was held in place by a cast stopping just short of her elbow. She also realized, though somewhat more distantly, that she'd maintained control of her disguise, even through... whatever had happened. There were machines and sea-foam green walls all around her, and her body felt like it was too heavy for her, trapping her in a hard hospital bed with polka-dot sheets.

The worst part was that the last memory she had was of Charles lying inches from her, so close but still too far away for her to reach, his body broken and bleeding. The image shook all weariness from her brain, and she forced her bruised, aching body upright, looking around wildly.

There were other accident-patients in the ward, but the one she was most concerned with turned out to be across from her on the other side of the room. Looking twice as battered as Raven felt, Charles was surrounded by medical machines, dead to the world around him. A sob clawed its way up her throat, and, throwing back the covers, Raven pulled herself out of the bed with a strength she hadn't known she was capable of in such condition. Grabbing onto her IV rack, she leaned on it like a staff, using it to cross the few feet that had suddenly turned into miles.

Having barely made the trip without falling over, Raven hooked her arms over the hospital bed guard rails, her legs shaking dangerously.

"Charles," she gasped, cheeks red from exertion. "Charles, wake up! Wake _up!_ Please, Charles, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, this is all my fault, _please_ wake up..." Exhaustion pulled her head down onto the bed, tears pouring earnestly down her face. It was only when she felt a hand brush weakly against the side of her headthat she paused in her weeping. Hardly daring to hope, Raven looked up, meeting the tired, but very much aliveeyes of Charles Xavier. She latched onto his hand, needing to find some way to anchor herself to him. For a moment, neither spoke. Then-

"You, my dear sister, look positively _dreadful,_ " Charles quipped weakly, and Raven tried to smile, though the rasp in his voice was almost physically painful. "Though, you did maintain control of your human form, despite how ridiculously intoxicated you were; I'm not sure whether I should scold you or praise you."

That alone, be it the words or Charles' psychic influence, brought back all the missing memories of the club, and the disastrous events that followed. Immediately, the waterworks started up again.

"I'm so sorry, I know this is all my fault, I just wanted to have a little fun and some freedom for a change, because even you have to admit you can be a bit overbearing, but I didn't go there planning to get drunk and high, or at least that much, I just wanted to be a normal teenager for once, but one thing led to another and it all just got so out of control-"

"Raven, you're babbling; I get the picture." he interrupted gently, rubbing a thumb over her cheek absent-mindedly. Mouth open, she nodded a bit, then sniffled and wiped her eyes on the bedsheets like she was a scared ten-year-old again.

"I really am sorry," she whispered, more ashamed than she'd ever been in her life. Her brother had jumped in front of a car to protect her, all because she'd gotten in way too over her head at a stupid party. It was a miracle they were both still alive.

"Actually, I believe we can thank our mutations for that, or at least partially," said Charles, as if he were reading her mind. Which, knowing him, was quite likely; it wouldn't have been the first time exhaustion caused his telepathy to wander a bit. "Your shape-shifting repaired some of the damage on its own. That being said-" he tilted his head slightly, as if listening. "According to one of the doctors in the hallway, there was still enough vehicle leftover for a concussion, a fractured wrist, and assorted cuts and bruises for you, and broken ribs, a broken kneecap, and massive internal bleeding for me-" Seeing her aghast expression, he hastily amended. "Sorry, minor, _minor_ internal bleeding- did I say massive?-" Despite the extremely un-amusing circumstances that had landed the two of them there, Raven couldn't keep back a giggle.

"Now who's babbling?" she teased, and was rewarded with a tired smile from Charles. It disappeared, however, when he noticed how her arms trembled with fatigue.

"You'd better get back to bed before a nurse comes in and catches you," he told her, concerned. "I wasn't exaggerating when I said you looked dreadful." Raven's grip on his hand suddenly tightened, and she shook her head fiercely.

"No, I'm staying with you," she pouted, rather childishly, but before Charles could say anything else, she crawled over the guard rail and collapsed in the bed next to him. Her muscles screamed in protest, despite the smirk she shot him that declared she was getting her way tonight. Surprised, but too tired to say anything, he squeezed her hand weakly, then fell asleep.

Raven lasted a few moments longer, hearing both the sound of the heart monitor and the heart beats themselves through his thin hospital gown. Curling up tighter into his side, she felt terrified at the thought that she could've lost this- lost _him._

Once again, she'd broken her promise, and it had almost cost him his life. Now, just before she passed out, Raven thought to herself: _never again._


	4. Fourth

_"Then why not stay in disguise all the time? You know, look like everyone else."_

_"Because we shouldn't have to."_

* * *

Seven years later, and they were both back in a hospital; this time, though, he was the only one in the bed and she was on the other side of the glass, looking in on the private room. Disguised as a nurse, Raven kept a silent vigil, watching over her brother from afar.

The moment she been teleported away with Erik- Magneto, now- Raven feared she'd made a terrible mistake. She'd gone because she'd wanted to do what was right, and Charles understood her reasons why; but Raven had _left_ him, the man who was the closest thing she'd ever had to family, left him lying on a beach with a bullet wound in his back. She'd waited as long as she could- one whole week, and she almost hated herself for not caving a little bit sooner to see him- before asking Magneto if she could check with Moira and the team on his condition. At first, she'd thought he'd allow it- after all, Charles was his friend too, and the anger over his injury was palpable- but he'd reminded her that she was part of _his_ team now, and it was important that others would differentiate between the two. She would just have to find out about his condition for herself.

There had been one other request, though; Magneto asked her to wait, just a little longer. Raven had wanted to protest, but for whatever reason, the words died in her throat. She supposed, in the end, that Magneto was right; he'd been right about everything else, hadn't he? And so she waited one more day, before searching dozens of hospitals for her brother, finally finding him in one on a Navy base.

In truth, she wasn't entirely sure what she'd expected. Maybe the bullet wound hadn't been all that bad, and the doctors would patch Charles up and he'd be back to the mansion and the team in no time; maybe all her worry had been for nothing.

For someone who'd been through so much, Raven really was rather naȉve.

Instead of going to the visitor's desk and introducing herself as Raven Darkhӧlme-Xavier, like she would have just a week ago, her newly-found instincts caused her to mimic the first nurse she spotted. She tried to excuse it away, saying that now she could stay as late as she wanted, whereas all other visitors would be forced to leave. Really, though, she was just becoming more like Erik; a little more angry, a little more spiteful, a little more _fearful_ each day.

It hadn't taken long, sneaking around in her new disguise, for all her idealistic hopes to be shattered.

Not only had the stray bullet severed his spinal cord, there was nothing any of the doctors could do to repair it, and Charles was now paralyzed from the waist down. The man who, as a youth, had always been so energetic, always moving, and playing, and working, and _living_ with such a drive that was rarely seen in most people, would now be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life.

The mere thought of such a thing had her blinking away tears. Biting her lip, Raven turned her attention back to the figure in the traction bed. To anyone less familiar with Charles, he would have appeared to be asleep; Raven, however, knew better. It was the stillness that gave him away; Charles was never that still, not even while asleep, unless he was thinking about something, and thinking about it hard. For a brief moment, she wondered what he was thinking about, then looked away from the glass, ashamed.

He was thinking the same things she was, of course; what would his life be like now? Could he continue to train a group of super-powered teenagers, if he had to wheel along beside them? Would his dream of a peaceful co-existence even be possible if he couldn't?

Raven looked back up, and at that moment, so did Charles, pulling away from his thoughts. Their eyes met, and she could tell he knew the 'nurse' was her. His eyes... the look in his eyes made her want to break her gaze away from his, or maybe claw her own eyes out so she'd never have to see that in Charles Xavier ever again. He was so _lost._ So pitifully, hopelessly lost, and it mirrored Raven's own feelings just before they'd met all those years ago. If it was possible to be physically torn in half, she would have done so, right then and there, and half would have run to his side and promised to never leave again. But the other would have stayed right where it was, and Raven's mutation was shape-shifting, not dividing her body; so there she stayed. Frozen still, on the outside looking in. _'Just like I always will be...'_

 _'Raven?'_ Charles' voice said tentatively in her head. She thought nothing back, allowing only a small smile and a curt nod. _'Could you... could you maybe stay? I-I don't know... Stay with me, Raven, please.'_

And now she knew why Magneto had wanted her to wait another day before visiting her brother; because had this been just a day earlier, her resolve would have broken that moment, and she really would have run into the room and stayed, stayed forever and ever, promising she'd never leave him and everything would be alright, and all would once be as it was...

Now she knew better, though. A single day had been all Magneto needed to make her stay with the Brotherhood, turning her back on the man who really was her brother, in all but blood.

So, with a slight shake of her head, and a mentally whispered, _'I can't'_ , she turned on her heel and left, leaving two broken hearts in her wake. Charles called her name, but she didn't answer; because she was no longer Raven, Charles' timid little sister. She was Mystique now, powerful and dangerous (and just a tad sexy). And she couldn't be both, she couldn't be split in two; it was one or the other, it had always been one or the other- she realized that now. Raven and Mystique, Charles and Erik, pacifist or aggressor, X-Men or Brotherhood; there had only been path she could choose, in the end.

She'd chosen the Brotherhood, and left behind the one person who'd always cared for her, no matter what; left him scared, and hurt, and alone, and she'd never said goodbye. To Raven, that was one more tick to add to the tally of times she'd broken her childish little promise, and that was even worse than if she'd shot him in the first place.

Good thing she was Mystique now.


	5. Fifth

_"My family tried to kill me, you pathetic meat sack!"_

* * *

Years past, more than Mystique cared to admit, and while she stayed young and beautifully blue, everyone around her grew old. Hank had said her cells aged differently, but it was strange seeing it effectively happen before her eyes. And while Magneto was no longer young, he continued with their fight; so she did the same.

When Magneto assigned her the task of poisoning Xavier through Cerebro, in addition to driving the girl away from the safety of the mansion, she'd be lying if she claimed she wasn't surprised. Because, despite all the bad blood between their two groups, Magneto had never wanted to hurt his former friend; and for this, Mystique had always been glad. As much as she claimed otherwise, Charles always had been her weakness; the one person who could make her question if what Magneto was doing was right. In the early days of the Brotherhood, she'd feared the day would come where she was unable to carry out an order because it would hurt her adoptive-brother.

Now, though, she'd been ordered to hurt him, maybe even _kill_ ; and Mystique found herself accept without hesitation. It wasn't really the idea of 'for the greater good' that prompted her, nor the old slogan of 'mutant and proud'; it was the pain and anger that rubbed off on anyone around Magneto, and of the team, she'd been there the longest. She ached to lash out someone, everyone, the world; but Xavier was just as good a target as any.

When Mystique stood in the courtyard, she didn't think about different it looked than the first time she broke into the mansion. She didn't think about how the tree house she and Charles had made one scorching summer was still there, though very little of the original structure remained. She didn't think about all those hours spent out there training alongside Hank, Sean, and Alex. No, those were all Raven's thoughts. Mystique was busy laughing to herself about how easy it was to slip past the defenses.

It really had been all too easy; it was a wonder she hadn't done it sooner. Sheassumed the face of student Robert Drake, who, she learned through her masquerading, had some sort of lunch non-date planned with Rogue. _'Teenagers,'_ she thought, smiling sardonically.

Scanning the crowds of students, Mystique quickly found her target. The girl was sitting on a bench, alone and far away from prying eyes. Just where she wanted her.

"Rogue," Mystique called out, walked over to her. The girl turned around at the familiar sound of Drake's voice.

"Bobby-" she started, but Mystique cut her off with an angry, "What did you do?"

She knew perfectly well what had happened, of course; high school was still the rumor-mill she remembered. The dumb lumberjack had freaked out and stabbed her, and she'd been forced to absorb his healing abilities. Poor girl would have died otherwise, and then she'd have been of no use to them.

"They say you're stealing other mutants powers," Mystique continued, keeping Bobby's voice between fear and barely-controlled anger. That was always her favorite trick; it scared people senseless to hear rage simmering just below the surface.

"No, no," Rogue hastily corrected. "Ah-Ah _borrowed_ his powers-"

"You _never_ use your power against another mutant," the shape-shifter growled, letting Bobby's manufactured anger show. For a moment, Rogue stared back, dumbfounded.

"Ah had no choice," she whispered, as if trying to make her friend see reason. "No, ya have to understand me-" But Mystique cut her off again. That was fun too; not letting someone get a word in edge-wise. Take a person's words away, and they were all of two inches tall, cowering before you.

"If I were you, I'd get myself outta here,"

"What do ya mean?" Rogue stammered.

"Listen, the students are freaked," Mystique lied expertly. "Professor Xavier's furious, I don't know what he'll do with you." The girl trembled a little, looking anywhere but at 'Bobby'.

"I think it'll be easier on your own," said Mystique, and she waited. Making a person feel alone and hated enough to be driven away was all about timing, after all. She waited until Rogue's lips were pressed in a thin line, waited until she was blinking back tears.

"You should go," Bobby's voice hissed from her throat, and she let the words hang in the air. Rogue squeezed her eyes shut, her breathing ragged, before standing up slowly and walking away from the bench. She looked over her shoulder, only to be met by Bobby's angry glare. That did it; Mystique _knew_ she would leave now. She kept up the charade until Rogue was out of her sight, before letting slip a small, victorious smile. One target down, another to go.

From there on in, the trip through the mansion was a cake-walk. She got lost only once, confused momentarily by some of the new additions; but beneath the décor, it was still her childhood home, and Raven knew the place better than anyone, except maybe Charles. The small slip almost cost her the mission, though, as she nearly ran into the real Bobby and two of his friends; Mystique hid just behind an elevator door, and waited until the three boys walked out the front door before continuing.

She was both confused and impressed by the lower levels, which had been added on after she left. The corridors wound deep under ground, creating a maze of almost labyrinth proportions. However, the purpose of the levels hadn't been to disorient an intruder, and after a few wrong turns, Mystique found was she was looking for; a round, metal door with an retinal scanner smack in the middle of a giant X. Funny how that X kept cropping up all over the mansion; Charles always did have a weird sense of humor.

Mystique, still disguised as Bobby, stood directly in front of the scanner, analyzing it shrewdly. Crouching slightly, so her eyes were level with the machine, she shape-shifted only her eyes, changing them from Bobby's to Xavier's.

"Welcome, Professor," a computerized voice greeted, having read the retinas and found that they, naturally, matched Xavier's perfectly. The doors hissed as they opened, and Mystique strode confidently in, shifting back to her true appearance.

Cerebro had been upgraded, to say the least, but she still saw much of the original model in the new version. She ran a fingertip gently along the console, sighing a little to herself; she'd recognize Hank's handiwork anywhere.

Pushing those Raven-thoughts to the back of her mind before they had a chance to grow, Mystique fiddled a bit with the console. It had been decades since Hank had first proudly shown them his blueprints; but she remembered enough, and Magneto did also, so between the two of them she knew exactly where to put the deadly little capsule.

A few tubes here, and a little fiddling there, and Mystique watched as the container full of once-clear liquid turned a greenish-black, contaminated by the poison. As she closed the console's drawer and turned to leave, Mystique was struck by something; she felt no guilt. Not a shred of remorse nagged in the back of her mind, and even Raven's thoughts had ceased troubling her. He'd been hurt, or at least would be, yet again on her account; but this time her decades-old promise weighed not an ounce on her conscience. She had just effectively poisoned the man who'd once been her brother, her dearest friend, and couldn't care less whether he lived or died.

Mystique smiled, and left the building.


	6. Once

_"I'm Charles Xavier."_

_"...Raven."_

* * *

The courtyard had been much the same as Raven remembered, though she drank it all in with a new perspective. Quickly, she spotted a bench on the edge of the yard where she could sit without attracting attention. Sighing a little, Raven recognized it as the same bench she'd sat on as Bobby a couple years ago while deliberately messing with Rogue's head, just before she tampered with Cerebro. How times had changed...

It was two months since the final show-down between Magneto and the X-Men; two months since she'd been 'cured'; two months since Charles had died, ripped apart atom by atom. Two months since her entire world had been turned upside-down, Raven woke up one day thinking clearer than she had in a long time. It might have been inspired by a dream she couldn't remember, or it could have been spur-of the moment; maybe it had sat in the back of her mind for ages, dust-covered and forgotten, but still undeniably there. Frankly, Raven really didn't care which one it was, because she was driven by the sudden need to _understand._

Ever since she took the cure-dart for Magneto- now, just Erik once again- she'd been struck by a strange lack of purpose. As a child, survival had been her top priority; as a teenager, fitting in had been her goal; and up until recently, the dreams of the Brotherhood had also been hers. But all of these things had centered around her mutation, and as much as it hurt, Raven Darkhӧlme-Xavier was no longer a mutant. After she'd recovered from the shock of Magneto's betrayal, her head had been consumed by one thought; now what?

In the end, the only thing that seemed right was to come home, in hope that maybe she'd find an answer. So, feeling vaguely foolish but not seeing any other alternative, she left her temporary job (waitressing, again) and headed back for Westchester.

Raven had stood just outside the iron gates of her childhood home for a good solid ten minutes, pondering how to find a way in. On the two separate occasions where she'd broken in, Raven had used her gift; without the mutation that had been a part of her all her life, she now often found herself struggling to be human. In the end, she decided it was simply best to enter the old fashioned way.

The iron gates, unlocked for visitors, swung open easily at her touch, with the same oiled precision as she remembered. The brick walkway, she noted, had been repaired, and new hedges had been added since her last trip. Though, Raven admitted to herself, they might have been that way before, and she'd just never noticed. Funny what a women with revenge on her mind will choose to ignore.

Now, surveying the grounds filled with laughing students of all ages, running and practicing their powers without a care in the world, Raven had to admit that Charles' dream was nice. There were flaws, as there are in any dream when it's put to the test, but overall, it truly was good. The children here seemed genuinely happy, able to be themselves behind the safety of the tall hedges. It wouldn't have been a bad place to grow up after all.

A hand seemed to clench around her heart as she recognized a blue figure that was clearly her son. He was keeping an eye on some of the younger students, amusing them with acrobatic and teleporting stunts (and, of course, the tail). She'd known it was him when they'd met over a year ago- one didn't forget that face, even as an adult- but never acknowledged him as such. Raven hadn't known why back then, but she knew now it was because she'd been ashamed; Kurt was such a kind, gentle soul, and the near-dead mother in her sought to protect him from being tarnished by her past. By all the things that she'd done, and the people she'd hurt.

"You lookin' for somethin'?" said a gruff voice. Raven started, and turned to find herself face-to-face with Wolverine. Panic flooded her, fearing that he'd recognize her scent like he had previously, and now she was going to die before she even started living again-

"Whoa, easy there, lady," Wolverine held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Didn't mean to startle you." Raven forced herself to calm, realizing that she wasn't about to be cut into ribbons. The cure must have affected more than just her appearance; he truly seemed to not know who she was.

The X-Man continued. "It's just that you're not really supposed to be here. I'm head of security, and all, so it's just my job and stuff. So, what're you here for, Miss-"

"Xavier," Raven said, a hint of a smile breaking out as shock crossed his expression. "Raven Xavier. I'm Charles' sister." Wolverine blinked a little, looking so thoroughly bemused it was almost laughable.

"Gotta say, didn't know the Professor had a sister," he replied, recovering his composure.

"Most people don't. The Xaviers adopted me when I was ten. Charles and I had an... uh, a falling out of sorts," she glanced at him, waiting for any sort of reaction. When there was none, she continued. "Aren't you going to ask me for some ID, or whatever security guards do?" Wolverine snorted.

"Nah. I'm a rotten head of security," he admitted, sitting down on the unoccupied half of the bench. "They just put me here cause I'm even worse at teaching. 'Sides, I figure you wouldn't bother coming here if you weren't who you say you are, not after all that's happened. I'm Logan, by the way."

"Nice to meet you," she replied politely, inwardly amazed that she was having such a normal conversation with a former enemy.

"So, are you..." asked Logan, a little awkwardly. Raven raised an eyebrow.

"A mutant? No," she answered, and it was hard to keep the bitterness from seeping through. "I'm completely human." Logan shrugged.

"No shame in that. I s'pose we all are in the end, right?" Raven suddenly became very preoccupied with tucking her hair behind her ears. It turned out her natural hair color was black, something which she'd recovered enough to be disappointed about. Personally, she'd always felt like she was more of a blonde-

"Are you here to see the memorial?" Logan interrupted her thoughts.

"Memorial?"

"Yeah, after- after it happened, we put up this thing for the Professor. The students have turned it into a bona-fide shrine; there's flowers and pictures and junk..." his voice trailed off momentarily, before he cleared his throat and continued. "It helps them cope, I guess."

 _'Charles really has done so much for our kind, more than Erik thought possible; I only wish I could have seen that earlier. He's given them hope,'_ Raven thought to herself morosely. The idea of a memorial pained her, but at the same time, it gave her a strange sense of... hope? She found herself nodding.

"Sure, I'll take a look," she replied, a little faintly. Logan paused, taking in her stunned expression.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Raven answered, pulling herself together. "I just... this whole thing has been... a little hard. Charles and I were very close as children. He was kinda my... my hero."

"Seems he was a lot of people's hero," Logan said gruffly, but not unkindly. Sweeping one last look over the school grounds, he stood up and gestured for her to follow. "C'mon, it's over here."

The memorial was set up in a garden adjacent to the main courtyard where they'd been. There were two smaller headstones as well, the sight of which seemed to make Logan wither a bit. Those were not what caught and held Raven's attention, though.

The memorial was, despite being almost taller than she was, a rather simple obelisk, bearing a metal plaque. Stepping closer, Raven read the epitaph.

_Charles Xavier_

_Father, Teacher, Friend_

It suddenly became very hard for her to swallow around the lump in her throat. He'd been all that and more; all that was missing was _'Brother'_. A single, pale fingertip trailed hesitantly across the metal portrait of Charles' profile, placed just above the epitaph. What was most remarkable, though, was at the base of the structure. A small tray of coals burned, surrounded by flowers, photographs, letters, drawings, and basically anything else imaginable, all presumably left by the students and staff.

"I'll leave you to it, then," said Logan quietly, before leaving the garden. By the way his gaze lingered on the farthest of the headstones, Raven wondered if she had more in common with this man than she'd originally thought.

"Well, Charles," she sighed, hand dropped back to her side. "Just you and me now." A glance over at the other two graves and the names they bore made her reevaluate. "Sorry, them too; Jean Grey and Scott Summers. They were your next students after us, right? Hank told me a bit about them- betcha didn't know that, huh? We still kept in touch for a little while after Cuba, before everything... well, before _everything._ "

Raven, crouching closer to the ground, ran her eyes over the numerous mementos, and one in particular stood out to her; a small, old fashioned Polaroid, yellowed with age and half-buried under some flowers. Plucking it gently from the mass, Raven smiled as she recognized the subjects. It was Charles and a young blonde woman Raven knew to be herself, circa 1959. He had an arm slung around her shoulders, with hers looped around his waist. They were both grinning broadly, not even trying to hide how touristy they looked.

"Hey, this is us! It was our first day in England, and some dork was running around snapping photographs of everyone for free, remember that? I could've sworn this thing got thrown out when we came back to the states! Wonder how it got here," she mused, setting the Polaroid back. Resting her chin in her hand, Raven looked back up at the epitaph, face solemn again. "Oh, Charles, what the hell am I doing here? I don't belong in this house anymore, much less by your grave. You know I was never good at talking to people, much less the dead. But, I suppose I owe you this much; so, bear with me if this comes out sounding like complete shit." Taking a breath, Raven closed her eyes, ignoring the children in the background, ignoring the sudden death-by-claws that awaited her if she was discovered, ignoring the fact that she was talking to a block of stone.

"Don't tell anyone I said this, but it wasn't easy walking away from you on that beach. I acted like I knew what I was doing, that I was confident in my choice; but really, I didn't know for sure until Azazel teleported us all away. Even then, there was no getting away from you. Did you know there were days I'd wake up hating you? I was so angry, if you'd been in the room I know I would've killed you without a second thought. You know why?" her voice rose in pitch, a quiet fury bubbling just below the surface. "Because you let me go. You actually _let_ me leave you! You'd been _shot,_ but it was all 'no, go off and find your own path'! All you'd had to do was ask, and I would've stayed! I was more than just your little sister, Charles, I was a part of your team! Real brilliant of you, that was, letting me make my own choices for once!"

Her eyes flew open, and landed on a small pile of stones among the mementos. Someone had written on each of them: peace, tolerance, serenity. Laughter bubbled up from her throat, and Raven stood up, snatching the rocks away from the memorial.

"Peace? Here, maybe, but out the real world? The Cure wasn't the first weapon they used against us, and it won't be the last! How's that for your precious peace?" Raven snarled, and she flung the 'peace' rock at the mansion wall facing her. The small little stone shattered on impact, and she felt a vicious delight it watching something else besides her break.

"Tolerance?" she continued, transferring said stone to her throwing hand. "If there was tolerance, we'd have peace! You've been trying for years, and guess what? Nothing!" Bits of stone rained down on the brick walkway as the second one was thrown.

"And serenity?" At this point, she was beginning to wonder why no one confronted her. Maybe her outburst was only one of several that had occurred at this spot. "Any chance of that was shot to hell a _long_ time ago!" The third stone came dangerously close to a window, and Raven fell to her knees before the shards hit the ground. She was caught somewhere between sobs and laughter, fingernails tearing viciously at the grass, burning with the need to just _hurt_ something. But still, she kept talking to the memorial, words pouring out like someone possessed.

"Other days I'd wake up _missing_ you. That was even worse than waking up angry! To feel that goddamned lonely, and knowing it was all my own fault! I missed you so much it hurt, and I didn't know why, and I hated that! I missed your stupid accent, and how much you loved tea; I missed you reading your textbooks to my like bedtime stories, and how you never could cook to save your life; I missed your stubbornness, and how overprotective you were. I missed being _loved,_ as more than just a mutant, as more than just Mystique. And I went and threw all that away.

"And you know what's even worse than waking up angry, or lonely?" her voice dropped back to a whisper. "Waking up, and just not caring. Waking up, and being just as empty as Erik. No hope for the future, no passion for anything but revenge. One day, years ago, I woke up like that, and I'm not sure I've ever woken up right since. Knowing that, but not giving a damn; it's a fate worse than death.

"Everything I thought I knew is wrong. I don't understand anything any more. And the one person who might have been able to help me is dead. All I ever did was hurt you, but you never turned me away, not once. I love you so much, Charles, more than I ever let on. And I'm so sorry, for everything. Sorry for hurting you, sorry for fighting against you, sorry for breaking my stupid little promise. I'm _so fucking sorry._ " Raven stopped attacking the ground and bowed her head, tears dripping slowly down her cheeks. For a moment, there was nothing but the sounds of her ragged breathing and the children playing off in the distance.

"Well now, that's certainly a lot of pent-up feelings, Mystique," said a voice from the other end of the garden, devoid of any detectable emotion. Raven didn't bother to look up; she knew who the speaker was.

"I've certainly had the time to build them up," she quipped, throat raw. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough,"

"Aren't they always," Raven sighed. "Care to explain why I'm still breathing, Storm?"

"Because you haven't done anything to merit death- yet," the weather-controller answered, walking a little closer, but still leaving space between the two of them.

"How did you recognize me, looking like this?"

"Logan had his suspicions, but wasn't willing to take his chances. He says you smell different now, by the way." Storm explained. Raven snorted.

"Good to know." There was more silence, as the X-Man sized up the former mutant. "Hey, Storm; how old are you?"

"I'm thirty-five," she replied, a little surprised by the question, but clearly willing to play along. Raven finally looked at her, raising an eyebrow. Storm amended. "Alright, thirty-nine."

"At what age do you think it's acceptable to look back on your life with nothing but regrets?" the former mutant asked, turning her gaze back to the memorial.

"I don't know," the other woman answered honestly. "I haven't reached that point, hopefully."

"I'm sixty-three," said Raven, before adding, "Look pretty good for my age, don't I? Do you think that's old enough?"

"Mystique, what are you doing here?" Storm sighed, clearly tiring of her chatter. "We've been through an awful lot lately, I don't know how much more the students can take-"

"Do you think I don't know that?" she snapped, her eyes still on the memorial directly ahead of her. "I'm looking for guidance from a goddamn block of rock. How much trouble could I cause?"

"Depends. This is _you,_ we're talking about."

"True." Storm closed the gap between them and settled down, Indian-style, on the ground next to her former adversary.

"Whatever it is you're looking for, I doubt you'll find it here."

"Oh? Why's that?" muttered Raven. Following her lead, Storm looked up at the metal plaque bearing her old teacher's face.

"Because I've been here too, many times, and I still don't know what it is I'm looking for. Do you?" Raven took a deep breath, steadying herself.

"Redemption," she whispered. "I've screwed up so many times, Storm, and I've broken more promises than I can count. I can't go on like this; living out of some dingy apartment, waitressing the days away, all the while acting like I wasn't something beautiful, something special. Acting like I didn't throw away the chance for a life of so much more than hate. I have to find some way to... make it right. I've gotta make it right, for Charles. It's the least I could do." Raven looked at the white-haired mutant, eyes beseeching. Storm glanced at her, and a sense of understanding seemed to pass between the two.

"I have a feeling I might regret this," she groaned, but continued nonetheless. "But, you never know unless you try. Look, our staff is down three members; four, if you count me, seeing as I'm stretched too thin to do much teaching anymore," Storm paused, and Raven could tell the decision she was about to make would be big. "We need someone who can be the public face of the school; dealing with the Board of Education, and irate parents and the like. Last time I checked, 'Senator Kelly', you were rather good when it came to politics. Are you willing to give this a shot? Probationary only, of course."

Raven couldn't believe her ears; she pinched herself just to be sure.

"Are you serious? Or _sane?_ " she blurted out before she could stop herself.

"The second one's debatable; but as to the first, I wouldn't be offering if I wasn't. How about we talk this over in my office?" Storm responded, before getting to her feet and dusting grass off her knees. She extended a helping hand that, with some trepidation, Raven accepted. Letting go of her hand once she was back on her feet, Storm started on the walk back to the mansion. With one last look at the memorial, Raven followed. Her head hurt, her eyes were itchy from crying, and her nails were a ruined mess; but, strangely, she felt better than she had in a long, long time. Raven had made a lot of mistakes in her life, and she knew that more than anyone. But her intentions, deep down, had always been good; and now, she had finally been given the chance to make it right.

"Welcome back, Mystique," said Storm, with a slightly guarded, but nevertheless genuine smile.

"Raven," the other woman corrected, with a grin of her own. "My name is Raven."

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, please consider leaving a kudo! Thanks for reading!


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